Do I Really Have to Love You?
by chrisSy10
Summary: REWRITE! Draco Malfoy is a half-veela, and when he comes into inheritance at his seventeenth birthday, he needs to find a mate. He does not know what path to choose, but he is headed right to Harry Potter.
1. Draco knows

Disclaimer: Not mine, except the plot and a few OCs.  
  
Edited: Thanks to a reviewer I found a plot hole. I have edited the chapter to get rid of it.  
  
Author's note: Hey guys! I promised I'd rewrite and revise Do I Really Have to Love You! I've had some e-mails telling me to continue it... Frankly I'd really like to, but I kinda lost my inspiration. My muse moved away too. XD Anyway, here's an all-new Do I Really Have to Love you, hope you like it! I'm calling it the same name. Unoriginal, I know.  
  
To all readers and reviewers for Do I Really Have to Love You: Thanks so much for the support! After I discontinued my fic, I was still getting feedback and reviews! I can say nothing else but THANK YOU! And I hope you like the rewrite.  
  
Summary: Draco Malfoy is a part veela. How will he react on his seventeenth birthday, the time when the veela in him chooses the person that he would be living with for all eternity? He does not know what path to chose, but he is headed straight for Harry Potter. What happens during Draco Malfoy's ultimate quest for happiness? (I SUCK IN SUMMARIES)  
  
Setting: Sixth year in Hogwarts, during Draco's birthday, and right after Christmas Vacation.  
  
Pairing: DM/HP  
  
All this is done in Draco's POV.  
  
Chapter one:  
  
I stayed home for the Yule Holidays. It was boring, but alright as well. I don't want to stay at Hogwarts when everyone leaves for their Holidays! At least it's better at home, where I'm free to roam, and invite couple of acquaintances over.  
  
T'was the night before the day designated to go back to Hogwarts, and I sighed as I waited for the time to tick by.  
  
"Draco, dearest, have you found a mate yet?" My father asked, as he passed by.  
  
My parents have been pressuring me to find my mate since I turned seventeen, the legal age for the wizarding world, and the day that my veela powers are finally in full operation. I'm a half veela, and the veela in me is supposed to find me a partner that I shall live with for the duration of my life.  
  
"No, father." I replied simply, as usual.  
  
"Then invite more friends over. Perhaps one of them will turn out to be your mate." My father said, leaving the room and slamming the door with a bang.  
  
I sighed and stood up, heading off to my room to relax. My bedroom is my only sanctuary in the Malfoy Manor, the manor I am to inherit after my parents' demise.  
  
I entered my room and sat on the bed, sighing. I didn't know exactly how I felt, and how to find out if I was attracted to someone. If the veela in me was, rather.  
  
I thought about Pansy Parkinson. The very thought of marrying her and living with her for the rest of my life made my heart skip a beat. In disgust. I absolutely loathed that girl, I loathe her with a... passion.  
  
Millicent Bullstrode however is a nice person... If you could call her that. She is a true Slytherin, just like me.  
  
I thought about a few more people, sighing as I lay down on my bed and stared at the ceiling. Not too long after that, I fell asleep.  
  
I felt someone, or something, poking me. I simply grunted in reply and rolled over, covering my head with my pillow. The prodding kept coming, and I finally opened my eyes and took my head out from under my pillow to see the source of the prodding. I saw that it was one of the house elves, and when it saw me awake, it gave a small smile.  
  
"Marny, what is it?" I asked, still sleepy. Normally I'm nice to house elves, but I found that I tend to take my frustrations out on them.  
  
"Will Master Draco please get up now? His bath is ready. He needs to leave for Hogwarts in two hours." Marny said.  
  
"Shit! I forgot about today!" I said, scrambling out of bed and rushing into the bathroom. I did my morning duties and dressed myself up. I had laid out an outfit on the bed earlier, and I looked it over. It would probably look good on me, and I pulled on a pair of tan leather trousers, which were quite loose, yet tight at just the right places, a dirty white long-sleeved turtleneck sweater, and I topped it off with a tan trench coat. I would be transported to King's Cross by Muggle car, and so I dressed in what resembled a Muggle-like outfit.  
  
"Is my breakfast ready, Marny?" I asked the house elf that was still waiting for me in my room. It nodded and dragged me by the hand to the breakfast room, where I devoured my food in a hurry. I headed off to outside, where a carriage awaited to transport me to King's Cross.  
  
At King's Cross, the Muggle station for trains, I headed to the brick column concealing Platform nine and three-quarters, pushing my cart along with me in a hurry. I definitely didn't want any Muggles to hit on me. After all, my veela powers is in full operation. I did notice, though, that a lot of people would stare at me as I passed by. I entered the Platform, and headed over inside the train, levitating me things behind me, towards the Prefects' compartment.  
  
I was allowed magic, since I had already turned seventeen, and I am very grateful about that. Potter, however, had also arrived early and noticed me using magic.  
  
"Of age already? I see you're able to use magic freely outside of school grounds." He mentioned, his arms crossed as I passed by him, who was leaning against a compartment door.  
  
"Of course. Apparently you aren't of age yet. Poor Potter." I mocked him, yet turned away as I felt a sudden attraction to him. A heat rose to my cheeks, and I hastened to walk away from him, to try and hide my blushing.  
  
He only smirked and chuckled, making me roll my eyes. "Later." I said, bidding him temporary goodbye. Our relationship of hatred had cooled down, not to the point that we're friends, but we don't fight much anymore. We prefer to leave each other alone, even though we still get into bickering sessions sometimes. Still, we have settled into teasing each other, no longer insulting each other. Potter's friends find this unusual. So do mine.  
  
I levitated my trunk to one of the baggage compartments, and sighed as I entered the Prefect compartment, where Weasley and Granger already were, as they were prefects. I ignored them as they glared at me whilst I entered, and looked out the window.  
  
I wasn't in the mood for Weasel and Mudblood bashing that day, but they kept on insulting and provoking me.  
  
"Why, has daddy's little boy finally run out of insults?" Weasley mock-asked, causing me to turn to face him, a deadly look in my eyes.  
  
The two looked at each other and shut up finally, letting me stare at the passing scenery.  
  
"It's your turn to do your rounds." I stated simply, coldly, and indifferently, indicating that they start with their prefect duty. I would start with mine later on.  
  
They nodded and stood up, exiting the compartment to do their rounds. Granger had still a book with her. I shook my head, chuckling lightly. "How could that girl possibly read too much and still come second to me?" I asked myself, as lately I had studied a little more than I normally did, pushing my normally above average marks a little bit higher, topping every class I was in.  
  
I don't know what had gotten into me, but I suddenly felt the need to study. I guess I was not contented with being second in class. And I had wanted to make my parents proud. I waved my wand, and I was immediately wearing already my Hogwarts robes and uniform. My earlier outfit was back in my trunk.  
  
I sighed as I looked out the window, staring at the scenery, the animals we pass by, the birds... and I wished that I could be as free as them. I wished that my father would understand my wish to keep myself neutral, not to pick a side in the war. If I chose to be on the light side, it would do me good, but my father would probably kill me on the spot. If I chose the dark side... let's not go there. I don't even want to kneel in front of the Dark Lord and worship him, kiss the hem of his robes... It's just disgusting to work and defend such a snake. I do know that I am a Slytherin, but still... as much as my father tries to deny it, the Dark Forces are getting weaker.  
  
A while later, I stood up to do my rounds of prefect duty, walking around the train. I passed compartment after compartment, listening for any trouble. I'd sometimes slide open the door and surprise the occupants, checking if they were causing any trouble. I would, of course, slide the door closed immediately before any of the occupants would submit themselves to the attraction that my veela aura would cause, and pounce me. As I neared the other side of the train, I had already confiscated a lot of illegal objects. As I passed by certain a compartment, my heart leapt.  
  
I walked over to where the compartment, my heart beating rapidly, my breath quickening.  
  
This must be it. The veela in me has probably already chosen for me the mate that I will live with my entire life.  
  
I felt compelled to see who my mate is supposed to be, and panted as I anxiously slid the door open, staring at the occupant.  
  
I broke into a sweat, staring at the occupant, my mouth agape, my eyes wide. I could not believe it. I knew I had felt something for this person earlier, when I passed by.  
  
"Are you alright?" The only occupant in the compartment asked.  
  
That voice. That gorgeous voice. I felt as if I wanted to listen to it all day. My heart rate quickened, if that was still possible, and I struggled to get myself in control.  
  
How could it be? It's simply impossible! I mean... of all people...  
  
I was feeling a pull towards the occupant, my future mate. A tug, an attraction... And I tried my hardest to deny it.  
  
"Are you alright, Malfoy?" The person asked me again. This successfully awakened me from my temporary daze. I took in a deep breath and struggled for my composure, before I nodded.  
  
"I'm alright." I answered, before I headed off to finish my rounds, albeit still in very much shock.  
  
I finished my rounds and entered the prefect compartment, before I slumped down on a seat and fell into a tired slumber.  
  
Before I knew it, I was in the great hall, awaiting Dumbledore's speech. I excitedly waited for the food, but I still could not dismiss the sense of worry and foreboding that I felt once I found out who my mate was. I, of course, kept this a secret.  
  
"Draccie, have you found out whether or not I'm your mate yet?" Parkinson said, clinging to me. I brushed her off and glared icily at her, sending her scurrying away to another seat.  
  
As Dumbledore finished his speech, I started eating, finishing both main and dessert courses in a hurry. I stood up and left, heading for my private rooms.  
  
I stood in front of a door, and beside it was a sculpture of a snake. I placed my hand on the head of the snake, and the door immediately opened.  
  
I was the only one who could access my room, as it was my magical signature that the snake's head would sense out. That, and of course, my finger and hand print.  
  
I entered my private chambers, walking towards the fireplace. I waved my hand and a fire suddenly lit. I threw some floo powder in it and recited my father's name, and his head appeared in the fire.  
  
"Yes, son? I take this is a matter of much importance as you had just pulled me away from my dinner." Father said, looking me straight in the eyes.  
  
I nodded, and answered, "Yes, father. I have found my mate on the train."  
  
"I see. Very well, I shall have the ceremonies arranged." Father said, nodding once. "Dare I ask who?" He added, and I swallowed.  
  
"You wouldn't like who it is, father." I replied.  
  
My father quirked his brow in reply, indicating that I answer him.  
  
"I'm telling you, father, you would not accept it! I am still in shock myself!" I said, trying to warn him.  
  
"Just tell me, Dragon." He replied, using my household nickname.  
  
"I-it's..." I started, taking in a deep breath. I rarely stammered.  
  
My father nodded his head, telling me to go on.  
  
I finally managed to mutter my future mate's name.  
  
"Potter."  
  
CHAPTER END  
  
I'm really cruel for leaving a cliffy like that! sighs  
  
Word count: 2,205 


	2. Harry Finds Out

Disclaimer: Not mine, except the plot and a few OCs.  
  
To all readers and reviewers for Do I Really Have to Love You: Thanks so much for the support! After I discontinued my fic, I was still getting feedback and reviews! I can say nothing else but THANK YOU! And I hope you like the rewrite.  
  
Yay! –Dances.- Thank you so much for the 25 reviews on the first chapter. I was so happy. Still am. I'm not going to name you all, except for those who have asked questions. Feel free to ask questions about my fics along with your reviews, I'd be glad to answer them for you. Sorry for the long time it took for me to update, as my recurring writer's block had made another appearance. I think I need more time outdoors. –Shakes head.- Anyway, hope you enjoy! I'm planning on doing a rewrite of I'M WHAT, but that would have to come after Do I Really Have to Love You.  
  
Summary: Draco Malfoy is a part veela. How will he react on his seventeenth birthday, the time when the veela in him chooses the person that he would be living with for all eternity? He does not know what path to chose, but he is headed straight for Harry Potter. What happens during Draco Malfoy's ultimate quest for happiness? (I suck in summaries, is it not obvious?)  
  
Setting: Sixth year in Hogwarts, during Draco's birthday, and right after Christmas Vacation.  
  
Chapter 2: Volcanic tempers.  
  
"Pardon? Did I just hear you say Potter?" Father asked me. I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded once again, biting my lip, and trying to brace myself from my father's temper outburst, one thing I knew would happen.  
  
"WHAT?!" My father yelled, causing me to cringe. His voice bounced off the walls of the room, echoing in my mind. I knew my father would probably disown me, but I would be eternally grateful if he didn't and chose to punish me instead.  
  
"What I said, father. Potter." I repeated, taking a deep breath, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach. It felt as if they were flying around and purposefully bumping into the walls of my stomach, making me feel queasy and nervous.  
  
"Are. You. Sure?" My father asked, eyes narrowed into slits, his voice deadly and menacing, but soft. I knew that he was more dangerous at such state than any other. I nodded, showing that yes, indeed I was sure. My father stepped out of the fire, lips pursed together, glaring at me. He grabbed me by the collar, our foreheads touching together. His eyes bore into mine, making me shudder. I had forgotten that my father was a very skilled legimens.  
  
My father let go of me sharply, causing me to lose my balance and fall onto the floor with a painful thud. I let out a pained cry and rubbed at my side as I got up. I looked at my father, trying to avoid looking into his eyes.  
  
"Very well." My father said, snarling. I knew that he was not happy about what happened. He knew, however, that there was nothing that I can do about it, and nothing he could do about it either.  
  
"I shall have the ceremonies arranged. And also, I shall inform Albus Dumbledore about this, although you must be the one to tell Potter about the predicament he is in." My father said, spitting Harry's name out as if it were poison. I nodded; too afraid what my father would do to me to refuse. My father turned about, flooing back to the Manor. Now I have got only one problem.  
  
How am I ever to tell Potter that I, Draco Malfoy, sworn mortal enemy of the said Golden Boy, ever tell him that my veela part had chosen him as a mate?  
  
I shrugged, throwing my hands up into the air in a gesture of defeat. I probably should tell Potter myself before that Albus Dumbledore does.  
  
I promptly shunned my clothing, now only in my black silk boxers, kicking my shoes and socks off. I jumped into the bed, falling asleep almost immediately, too fatigued to even be bothered by the worry settling into my gut.  
  
I blinked, allowing my eyes to flutter open, stretching most catlike-ly. I sat up lazily, looking at the clock on the end table. It appeared to be a little too early for breakfast. I raised my hands up above my head, back arching as I stretched once again. Somehow I felt I had forgotten something.  
  
Then it suddenly hit me.  
  
My veela part had chosen my mate.  
  
And it was Potter.  
  
Father was furious.  
  
I gasped in shock once again. Now my stomach was chock-full of worry, but despite the fact that I felt queasy, my stomach gave a grumble, signifying that I should feed myself. I shrugged and ignored my stomach's cry for food, and did my morning duties, taking a quick shower, carelessly fixing my hair so that it was gelled up the way I kept my hair mostly. I lazily yet fumblingly put on my clothes, heaving a frustrated sigh as I realized that I had buttoned up my shirt wrongly. I shrugged and put on a robe, leaving it unbuttoned, shoving my socked feet into my shoes. I didn't bother to lace up my shoes either, and hurriedly put my tie on, knotting it all wrong. I shrugged once again, heaving an exasperated sigh. I gathered my books, placing them in my school bag and slung said bag over my shoulder, walking out of my classroom towards the great hall. I found it easier to eat when there are less people, as I was able to eat quietly and in peace, without girls throwing themselves at me. I sometimes curse myself for being half veela because of that fact.  
  
I gazed down at my food, suddenly feeling the urge to just wake Potter up and just tell him, just so I would get it over with. Heaving another sigh, I picked at my food, stabbing my fried eggs mercilessly, until the yolk spilled out, spreading all over the golden plate on which it was placed. I didn't feel like eating, but my stomach was screaming bloody murder. I needed to eat.  
  
Finally, glad that's over. I had finished eating, and had left the Great Hall with my bag still slung over my shoulder. Now the question is... where am I to go this early? Classes would not start till an hour more, at most, and I didn't exactly want to go back to my private bedchambers, which father had gotten for me, since most people liked pouncing me in my sleep, disrupting my rest.  
  
A few were awake at this time of day. Not much roamed the halls like I, as it seems, most students enjoyed sleeping in. That would probably be due to late-night partying, getting drunk and high, and such nonsense. I've been through all that, but now I don't exactly find hangovers and sluts hurling themselves at me appealing, at the least.  
  
Staring down at the cold, uncaring cobblestone floor, I kept on walking, not even giving a care about where I was going, since after all, I would not bump into anybody, since the hallway was empty. Little did I know that there was somebody coming towards me. In my carelessness I bumped into the person, hurtling to the floor, landing on it with an 'oof.' I groaned, rubbing at my arse where I had landed. I had not seen who I had bumped into yet, and I had no idea who he or she was, until I had inhaled some of the person's scent.  
  
My heart started beating faster, my head started spinning, and I started sweating. Needless to say, I was nervous. Very nervous. And attracted to Potter, nonetheless. Potter had offered his hand for me to be able to pull myself up, and I grasped it, nearly passing out at the contact of our hands. A shiver ran up and down my spine, a heat running through me, collecting at my groin area. I tried to ignore the fact that I was aroused, thanking the heavens for loose robes.  
  
"Potter." I greeted, nodding curtly. I took a deep breath, glad that I was able to hide my emotions well, of course, due to my father, since he would always punish me even if the merest fraction of a smile came to my lips. My ability to hide my feelings and emotions still did not hide the fact, however, that my voice was shaky. Although I hoped and prayed that Potter hadn't noticed.  
  
"Malfoy." He replied to me, nodding back, his hand moving to pick up his fallen bookbag. The raven-haired boy slung it over his shoulder, such a graceful movement that made me want to grab him by the wrist and ravish him totally. I cleared my throat, trying to regain my composure. "Potter. Uh, I need to tell you something." I started, loosening my tie a bit, tugging at the constricting collar of my shirt. My heart was beating so fast I knew that it would win a race if it joined one.  
  
"Talk about what..?" Harry asked me curiously, a confused look coming upon his face. "Last I knew we never had to talk about anything. Why start now?" He asked.  
  
"Because." I replied, shrugging, grabbing Harry's wrist, dragging him into an empty classroom. I tried my best to resist temptation, but if temptation came in the form of Potter, it was plainly impossible to resist. What was unusual about a half-veela choosing a wizard as a mate was that the wizard would be immune to the half-veela's charm, which is hard on the part of the half-veela, being as I still need to earn Potter's affection. Damn these bloodlines.  
  
"Alright, we're here, now talk." Harry demanded, rubbing at his wrist. Seemed that I had gripped too tight, and red imprints were visible on Potter's skin.  
  
I took a deep breath, gathering my courage. Here goes nothing. "Potter, you do know that I'm a half-veela?" I asked.  
  
He nodded. "But what has that to do with me?" He asked, and I shrugged.  
  
"Well, uh... on the train..." I trailed off. I was probably not making any sense. Potter's quirk of brow proved the fact. "Err, on the train, I discovered that... that..." I trailed off once again, tugging at my collar.  
  
"Just tell me, would you?" He asked, his face displaying a look of genuine confusion and interest.  
  
"On the train I discovered that..." I took a deep breath. And another one. "On the train... I discovered..." Fuck this. I rarely stammered. Now here I am, trying to make sense, unable to do so, however. I took one last deep breath. Here goes...  
  
"On the train, Idiscoveredthatyouweredestinedtobemymate." I let out a sigh after that. Glad that was over. However, I shuddered at the thought of what Potter's reaction would be.  
  
Five... Four... ThreeTwoOne.  
  
"WHAT!?" There it goes.  
  
Chapter end. ANOTHER CLIFFY! I've suddenly become fond of keeping my readers on their toes. O.o; Hehe. Anyway, have fun reading. DON'T FORGET TO LEAVE ME A REVIEW! =D  
  
Note Alright, I'm not sure about the part wherein Harry would be immune to the charm of half-veelas, but being as this is my fic, I suppose I could make it so. Any comments on this would be appreciated, so that I will be able to edit the fic.  
  
Word count: 1,947 words. Shorter than I expected, but hey, quality over quantity/length, isn't that right? Hehe. 


	3. Just another day in the life of Draco Ma...

Disclaimer: Not mine, except for the plot and a few OCs here and there.

Thanks for those who left me reviews for the second chapter! And finally, after a two-month break, I'm able to write this. I'm having problems with my other fic, Blood Magic, and I'm still stressing about fixing it. But meanwhile, I'm going to write this, so that you'll have something to do while waiting for the next chapter of Blood Magic.

Anyway, who reads author notes? Nobody does! On with the story!

Chapter Three:

I wanted to hurl, seriously. It was a feeling that was familiar to me, being as I used to be a partygoer and therefore drank a lot. But no, I've never felt like wanting to hurl because of this specific reason. Because of being nervous. And to tell you the truth, I hate this feeling in general.

Potter's mouth had dropped open, and he shut it shortly after the initial shock. He then put his hands on his hips, raising his eyebrow. "I know not to believe you, Malfoy. After all, you _are_ a snake. How do I know this is not just one of your pranks, or maybe a dare you were forced to do?"

I gulped. I didn't know how to answer that question. I wasn't ready to be faced with that question. I hadn't expected it!

"I uh... Uhm. I don't exactly know how to prove this, o-or explain, for the matter. But I'm telling you the truth." Damn! Stammering again! I bit my lip, swearing to myself that I would no longer stammer, nor stutter, nor even think twice about saying a word.

"Then how, pray tell, do I know you're telling the truth?" Potter had asked. I blinked, looking away from him. Looking into his eyes was too intense, too unbearable. To see the smoldering anger in them ripped my heart to shreds, so to say. I've only just found out about Potter—and already I'm feeling attached to him. How could that be? Oh, I wonder how it would feel to be in his place right now and feel what he feels. Sounds redundant, doesn't it?

I merely shrugged in my reply, my hands held out palm up, in another gesture of 'I don't know.' I opened my mouth to speak, but I wasn't quite sure of what I was going to say, so I just shut it—I didn't want to stammer.

More worry settled into my gut when Potter just glared, slung his bag over his shoulder once again as it had fallen earlier in his shock, wheeled about, and left, walking in a brisk pace. I sighed, picking up my own book bag and heading over back to my room to sulk, and probably to worry about what was going to happen.

No, I still can't believe what's happening. I mean, of all people! I shook my head side to side, starting to run to my room. I definitely didn't want to be caught in the halls by people when I'm not looking my best—I had been too bothered to dress up properly. Maybe Potter didn't notice, and so he didn't think I was telling the truth. Hell, how'd I get on the subject of Potter!? There I go, thinking about him. I've been noticing that for the time that I've known he was my mate, he was constantly on my mind, and I was finding this very annoying. I'd probably not be able to concentrate on my studies, or quidditch... or any other activity, for the matter. Licking my lips, I entered my chambers. Once I was inside, I closed the door and dropped my book bag, running to my bed and plopping down onto it.

I hadn't realized I had fallen asleep. I had awaken, and one glace at my watch told me immediately that I had a few minutes before my first class of the day. I groaned in frustration, my head dropping back onto the bed. I _knew_ I wasn't going to be able to concentrate on my studies. But, I needed to go to class still, so I forced myself to stand up and fix my appearance so that I was no longer haggard and shabby, but I was still not looking my best. I picked up my book bag and exited my room, and right after then started running to my class—Potions with the Gryffindors. Oh bloody hell! The Gryffindors! I'd forgotten I had this class first thing! Oh, perfect. Just perfect.

I burst into the classroom, panting, and dripping of sweat, but nevertheless I straightened my self, regained my composure and looked about the room, looking for seats. I was just in time, but the room was filled, and the only seat vacant was—NO. Oh no. I am not going to sit beside Potter. I am NOT!

Professor Snape had entered the room, slamming the door in his wake, and walking in front of the class with his robes still billowing. Turned out I had to sit beside Potter, even if I did protest about it. Well, I didn't really protest, since having the chance to sit beside Potter would be heaven... oh, shut up! I smacked myself upside the head mentally, sighing and placing my book on the table and opening it to the page that Snape had said. I took a scroll of parchment, unrolling it and placing it on top of my book, laying my self-inking quill above it.

Potter was still ignoring me—not that I mind—and he was looking straight ahead at the blackboard, taking down notes. I was doing the same, except that I took and occasional glance at him, and at every time I did, my heart leapt bounds. He was a beautiful creature—there was no other word to describe him, and he was quite breathtaking. Oh, who am I to be talking about this? I've to concentrate on the potion!

Every time we brushed against each other it was as if I would burst. I couldn't believe all the feelings going on inside me. I can't possibly handle this! I'll melt under the pressure. But somehow I'm going to manage. I hope.

"Alright, now start working on your potions. Whoever is beside you is your partner, no switching," Professor Snape had said. Potter and I are partners! Bad luck for him, I've a feeling I'm going to botch this potion.

Three knocks came at the door, and all heads turned that way. Nobody dared disturb Snape's class. About the Potions professor, he had headed over to the door and pulled it open, his face expressionless. Turned out to be the headmaster who was knocking at the door, and so Snape had welcomed him in. However, Dumbledore had declined.

"Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy, please come with me. Severus, please do excuse them from their class," Dumbledore had said.

Oh no. Now, it's going to happen now. Dumbledore's going to confirm Potter's fears. He's going to confirm _my_ fears. He's going to tell Potter that he really is my chosen mate. And I suppose father's going to be there.

Potter glanced at me, and I caught his cold stare. It gave me shivers running up and down my spine. I shrugged mentally and stood up, gathering my things and carelessly throwing them into my bag, walking over to the headmaster. All eyes on me, and it was making me uncomfortable. Potter too, had headed over to us. We walked to the headmaster's office.

"Do you know why you're here, Harry?" Dumbledore had asked. I was right, my father was there. He was standing behind me, but Potter and I were seated facing each other, on the seats beside the headmaster's desk. My father had a livid expression on his face, although he kept himself silent.

"Uh. No..?" Potter had replied, his eyebrow raised. I was like my father—silent, but my expression was emotionless. I wasn't mad at Potter, no, how could I be. After all, he is my mate—unless he chose not to be with me. But still I knew I'd have to try and win him over.

"Well, you _have_ heard of veelas, have you not, Harry? In fact, you've already encountered veelas before," The headmaster continued. Potter had nodded, his hands brought together, his fingers intertwined, thumbs twiddling. I watched his hands as I had nothing better to do. His hands were perfect.

"Well, young Mr. Malfoy here is a veela—half veela, actually." The headmaster continued.

"I _know_ that. Just tell me what it is and get it over with!" Potter had said. Uh-oh, not good. Potter's behavior had probably just given my father an impression that he, Harry Potter, was not raised well, and not taught any manners.

"I'm Malfoy's mate, aren't I?!" Potter had said, near yelling. I could see that he was panicking, he was freaking out, so to say. Truth be told, I wasn't shocked that he was.

All that Dumbledore said in reply was: "Yes, Harry, I'm afraid you are."

Bwahahaha! Another cliffy! I'm the queen of cliffies! O.o;; Have fun reading. REVIEW. NOW! Just kidding. No, really. Review, please.

Word count: 1,539.


	4. You're Joking, Right?

Disclaimer: You very well know what's going to be here.

Thanks to all those who reviewed!

This fic is turning out better than Blood Magic, but I guess that's because I've devoted more time to it. Also, I'm trying to improve BM, since I'm having a problem with it. I need to work on raising my grades, also, so I'm sorry if this chapter turns out crappy.

**Notice to everyone: **I may be able to update one more time before October 21st comes, but after I won't be here for about two weeks. I'll be going to another country, and I'm not sure if I'm to be given access to the computer. I'll try to update before I leave!

**Chapter 4:** You're joking, right?

"I am? You're joking, right? You're joking! I just know it!" Potter had said, his voice very soft, as he was having trouble coming to terms with what I'd said and Dumbledore confirmed.

"I am afraid not, Potter. No, we are not joking. We don't go joking about matters like this," My father answered, breaking his silence. His face was still calm and free of expression, however. I was no longer expressionless, though, and that earned me a glare from father.

"Professor Dumbledore! Tell me they're joking! You know they are, right!?" Potter asked. I could sense he was becoming desperate.

The headmaster shook his head—lips pursed, and I could see Potter's head droop down, and his eyes steadied their gaze on his twiddling thumbs. I can feel that he's about to—

"I DON'T BELIEVE ANY OF THIS! Come on, what's the chance of that happening! Draco Malfoy is my 'arch-enemy,' and not only that, his father is a—"

There he went. I knew he was about to make a comment about my father, so I narrowed my eyes at him, and he stopped. I guess I still do have some power over him... Or so I think.

"His FATHER is a _dea_—"

"Enough, Harry. As much as I would like to deny that this is true on your part, I am afraid that it is a fact that you are chosen mate of Draco. And this situation is life-binding, and cannot be changed, or broken, unless one of you dies." Dumbledore spoke up, looking slightly miffed.

"Fine! FINE! Then I'm going to go and kill myself!" He said, turning his death glare onto me pointedly. I opened my mouth to speak.

"You're not serious about that," I'd said, and exhaled deeply. My father's eyes were locked onto Harry's face, glaring daggers at him continually, so that if by chance that Harry looks up, he would see my father's eyes bearing into him.

I was starting to become very uncomfortable. The longer I was in Potter's presence, the more I warmed up to him and got attached to him. This would not be good.

"Excuse me," I started, "I should like to go catch some fresh air," I finished, hastily getting out of my chair and out of the room as fast as I could. My heart was racing, as I ran downstairs, and out to Hogwarts Grounds. I sat down under the oaken tree, the one I usually sat under to contemplate some thing or another. I just hoped that father would not kill me—figuratively—for totally disregarding my manners and leaving when we were in the middle of a conversation.

An hour found me staring blankly off into space, leaning against the trunk of the oak tree I'd learned to love. I was twiddling my thumbs, waiting for something to happen.

"You know, staring off into space loses you brain cells." Someone to my left stated. I recognized Potter's voice immediately. I hadn't heard him approaching.

I turned to look at him and blinked.

"I knew that," I said, trying to smile at him, but the smile just wouldn't come to my lips. "What are you doing here?" I asked, looking away, eyes following a dragonfly that was flying about. I reached out and caught it easily, cupping my other hand over it and peeking at it inside its cage of skin. I did anything, _anything_, and I would do anything, just so that I won't have to look into his eyes. I don't want to. I can get myself very easily lost in the emerald-green oblivion.

"I was ordered to go and find you and talk to you," He said in reply, sitting down beside me, although making sure that we were an arm's length apart. "So don't think I came here on my own accord," He finished.

My heart dropped to my knees. I found I had been hoping he came to try and apologize. Well, at least he is being somewhat decent, except for the fact that his jaw was obviously clenched, although he tried hard to conceal it. I bit my lip and nodded.

"I wouldn't expect that of you," I said, raising my hands and removing the one on top, freeing the dragonfly.

He merely shrugged and stared at something in the grass, apparently deep in thought about what to say.

"Problem is they sent me here, and I have no idea what to say," He said, sighing.

I smirked somewhat and nodded. "Well, what do you expect? They probably want us to talk about nothing in particular, and then find out something common that we both like, apart from quidditch."

"I guess so," he said, and then the blanket of silence fell over us again. I was starting to feel the tingles again, the feeling that I needed to reach out and touch Potter, grab him, hold him in my arms.

He bit his lip uncomfortably. "Could you please stop staring at me? It makes me conscious..." He said, and I immediately turned my head and trained my gaze upon a tree. I hadn't noticed that I was staring at him.

Another awkward silence, and he looked up, biting his lip, to ask me a question I would never forget and would always have to ponder about.

"What happens now? What happens in your future? My future?" He asked timidly, staring down at his hands, twiddling thumbs, and crossed legs.

I stared at him, trying my best to keep myself in line and not to reach for him and smell him, inhale his scent.

"I don't... I don't know. Honestly, I haven't given that one single thought," I replied, reluctantly looking away from him.

I can't take this anymore. He's so close, and so far—I can see him, smell him, but I absolutely doubt he'd let me touch him.

"Excuse me, but I can't stand you being so close to me, yet so far. I can't stand not being able to touch you," I said, shifting my position and making a move to stand up.

Potter bit his lip and nodded. "Sorry, but it's hard for me to adjust to this," He said, and I nodded.

"I know." I said, now on my feet. I attempted another smile at him, and made to leave, but he caught me by surprise.

I was in his arms, for a few, brief seconds, and if I was to count, it was probably at around two seconds. Seemingly short, but no matter to me. I was in heaven, feeling his arms around me, I was feeling pure bliss. Never mind that we were barely touching, just feeling his arms around me and at least knowing that what I felt mattered too—I was happy. For now.

He moved away and stood beside me once more, and arm's length apart, still, although he too attempted to smile at me, and this time I was able to smile back.

"Thanks Potter," I said.

"You're welcome," He answered.

Mwahahaha! Took a little long, but here's the update!!

Steam comes out of ears. LEAVE ME A REVIEW, PLEASE!!

Word count: 1,320


	5. Gee, McGonagall needs to stop forcing th...

Disclaimer: If you people don't know by now what is supposed to be here, I don't know what to do about you. But just keep on reading!

THANKS TO THOSE WHO REVIEWED! Thanks for being patient with me too, btw.

**Author's Notes/Announcements: **Alright, I'm back. My writing was on hiatus for a moment there because I had no computer access whatsoever (for longer than 20 minutes, anyway) while I was on holiday, out of my country. I had to keep moving around, and I couldn't possibly bring a diskette, I was lugging around too much stuff (being female, I take to shopping a lot). And so, I'm back, writing again. Geez, I have to make up for a lot of school work. Anyway, here goes.

I'll make this chapter twice as long and more worth your while, since I gave you a rather long wait. (If not twice as long, then somewhat longer)

I apologize also for not being able to upload this chapter right after writing it. had a bug and repairs going on, etc.

Next chapter for Blood Magic coming soon.

**Chapter 5: Gee, McGonagall needs to stop forcing things on us**

The crowd in the Great Hall was quiet, or at least it seemed to be to me. This close proximity to Potter is making me block out everything else other than his sight, smell, and sound. I can't keep my attention off of him for a mere fraction of a second. The aggravating roar of the students eating during lunch break somehow dulled down to a lethargic din which seemed to be getting softer every moment. This came to my notice, of course, and I broke out of my trance to look around the great hall to see what was happening that would trigger such silence. Apparently the students had started leaving, and so the noise quieted down. Should one of the professors announce my not-so-unpleasant plight, I would have to run out the great hall hastily. I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts and poking at my food that I had not noticed Potter approach me, even if my heightened senses did read signals of him getting closer. I guess it took my brain a few moments to process it.

"Uh. Hey, Malfoy," He opened; conversationally, I hope. I have no inkling as to why he would even come over to talk to me at the least. From what I would've thought, he would stay away from me. But then, he hugged me, so doesn't that mean..?

"Hello, Potter." I replied, smiling up at him, bringing a sliced piece of meat to my mouth and chewing at it dryly, barely even actually enjoying it. I was eating as a diversion, I didn't want to gaze at Potter too adoringly, or something, lest a fellow Slytherin, or worse, Parkinson, notice, and announce it to the world. Then again, it would be announced sooner or later.

Potter took a seat beside me, licking at his lips. Oh no, he's nervous. I noticed that much, watching him a lot and all. He tended to lick his lips when he was nervous—or under pressure. I hope none of the two would be right. I want him to be comfortable with me…as much as possible.

"I, uh. Well, um, I came over here to ask you—because McGonagall told me to—to go with me to Hogsmeade tomorrow. She thought it would help us get to know each other better." He stated. My heart jumped at the invitation. My mouth dropped open unethically, however, as I seem to be absent-minded, forgetting myself all the time. Damn this.

I guess the whole faculty and staff knows, then.

"She did? Well then…I guess we'd have to go together. Sorry to be forcing this on you…well, sort of." I answered with a weak smile, standing up and slinging my book bag over my shoulder.

"It's okay, you're not forcing it on me," He started, and of course, I felt instantly relieved. What he said next deflated my happiness, however, "McGonagall is."

I waited at the landing of the stairs at the entrance hall, leaning against the railing, waiting for Potter to come so that we could take the last carriage heading over to Hogsmeade, waiting patiently for him to come. What's taking him so long, anyway?

He's not coming.

Not coming.

Not—I jumped, startled by someone suddenly poking me at the side. I turned to face whomever it was and yell at his or her face. The person who greeted me with a faked coy grin was Parkinson. I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw and fist, trying and failing to banish her from her spot in front of me. I was upset badly enough about Potter's not showing, now she's come to annoy me as well. Does the world really hate me so much?

"Hey, Drake," She said, batting her eyelids at me.

"Go away Parkinson, leave me alone." I answered plainly, but she persisted, hanging about me.

"Am I your mate yet?"

"NO!" I snapped back, and she pulled away, obviously shocked at my reply.

"Come on, you know I am," She said. Merlin, I can swear she was born pathetic.

"No, you are not, and you will NEVER be!" I said, emphasizing on the word never. I already know who my mate is, so I know for a fact that mating Parkinson will no longer be a fear of mine. I'd take the Weasel over her anytime.

"I'll let you think about that some more, Draccie," She said, heading over to her friends, who were waiting for her so that they could go to Hogsmeade in the carriage they had earlier hailed.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes.

He's not coming.

Merlin, make him come!

I felt somebody tap at my shoulder, and I quirked my brow, turning about to face whomever it was and tell them to leave me alone.

There Weasel was. Will this day get any better? At all?

"What's going on? Harry told me to tell you he'll be waiting for you in one of the carriages. Since there are only two left, I suppose it's the one that you're going to take. Harry very politely told me and Hermione to go on a separate one," He began sarcastically.

Hearing about Potter relieved me somewhat. However, the thought of having to explain to Weasley why Potter called for me was unpleasant.

"You'll find out later on, I guess," I said plainly and headed off, in search of Potter.

I was rather upset at Potter…not really, but I was feeling disappointment…if that is what I think it is.

"Why, pray tell, did you send Weasley after me? Could you not have gone yourself? Weasley is asking me questions, you know." I told him as I entered the carriage and sat opposite him, ignoring the tingles starting in my gut.

"Don't worry, Malfoy, Ron will remain clueless as ever. You should've come to expect that from him, you know." He started. "I'm sorry, I seem to have lost my invisibility cloak, and since nobody knows about our situation, I didn't want to clue anybody in."

"Well, that would be the purpose of remaining behind until the last carriage is left. Besides, they'd see us around in Hogsmeade anyway." I answered smugly.

"Fine, fine. Sorry, okay?" To this apology I nodded and smiled. It's hard to stay angry at him, given my situation, and his.

The carriage started moving, and we too, started conversing.

"Where to first?" I asked him, being polite as usual. I had no interest in any of the shops, nor had I anything that I needed to purchase. Maybe a few extra quills and an ink pot, but that would be it. I was more interested in spending the day with him, actually.

"Uh…I don't know. Honeydukes would be packed with students, we would have to visit that shop towards the end of the day… Zonko's would be a good choice, but then, I wouldn't want to be seen buying any pranks, since I would be undoubtedly tagged to them once one goes off," He said, biting his lips while he thought out loud.

"I think the best place to visit first would be Flourish and Blotts, I want to see if there are any new pocketbooks. I've gotten into reading, since I have nothing better to do when I don't have quidditch practice and when I'm not studying." He said.

"Okay, Flourish and Blotts it is, I suppose. I would've chosen that store, too," I said. Well, at least we had something in common, to start with.

I need to stop looking at him, or else he'd notice that I was staring at him. And I needed to stop staring at him or else I might lose my control over myself.

The seemingly never-ending ride to Hogsmeade finally was over, and I hopped off, offering my hand to Potter to help him climb down. He didn't however; he just jumped down from the carriage. I took my hand back to my side, shoving them into my coat pockets. I had clad myself in a simple ensemble, a pair of black linen trousers, a green velvet turtleneck, and a black leather coat to top it off. He was wearing an oversized sweatshirt and Muggle jeans.

"Let's head over to the book shoppe, then?" I asked, nodding my head in the direction of said store. He nodded, and we headed toward it, entering.

He started browsing the shelves, as did I, taking a book from the shelf and seeing if it would be of any interest. If it was of no thrill whatsoever, I put it back. If I took a liking to it, I held it as I searched for another book. Potter seemed to be unable to decide on which book to buy, however.

"What's the problem?" I asked, gazing at the books he was holding. One was a Muggle classic by an author I did not recognize, and one was a historical novel by a wizard writer.

"Can't decide." He stated simply, showing me the books, covers up, so I could see and possibly help him pick one.

"Well, I can't help you on that, since I haven't read either of them, but if you like, I can pay for them both," I offered, taking hold of the two hardbound books and placing them atop the pile of books I'd already chosen for myself.

"There's no need for that, really." He said, looking over to my stack. "That's a lot of books," He commented, and I merely smiled, taking the pile and levitating it to the counter to get it rung up.

I paid for the books and handed Harry the parcel of books I bought for him, which I asked the shopkeeper to wrap separately. I shrunk mine and placed it in my pocket.

"So where do we head next?" He asked me. I shrugged.

"You pick, I don't need to buy anything, so wherever is convenient for me," I smiled. He bit his lip in thought once more.

"Let's just go to the Three Broomsticks, then?" He suggested. I nodded, and pretty soon we were seated at one of the back booths, waiting for our butterbeer to be served us.

We talked about unimportant things, mostly we talked about things that we both agreed upon, actually. And so once again the roar of the crowd at the pub was forgotten by me, and I concentrated on only one thing: Potter.

DONE! Word count: 1,908


	6. Double Potions, Double Disaster

**Disclaimer:** I don't own, blah blah.

**A/N:** Thanks for all the reviews! OMG, I'm closing into a hundred.

**Anna May:** Yes, indeed you're right. In several points of this fan fiction I _have_ mentioned my need for a beta reader. I'm currently still looking for one, so if you have any recommendations, please do contact me through my e-mail address.

**Ash:** I do know the word meanings. If I have a problem with some, I usually check for the meaning and usage in a dictionary. As I have said already, your statement coincides with Anna May's—I do need a beta reader. I make mistakes too, you know, even if I try hard not to make any. Contact me through my e-mail address if you have any recommendations. Yes, I'll admit the fic is a little redundant. I lack inspiration sometimes, or sometimes while I type I just realize that I have no idea what I'm doing. Writer's block and stuff. Geez, I swear I have a permanent case. I hope not, however.

Onto the chapter!

**Chapter 6: **Double Potions, Double Disaster

I was still trying to digest the fact that I spent nearly the whole day with Potter yesterday. With a total, impermeable happy mood I set off to go to double potions with the Gryffindors. I felt that nothing, or nobody, could ever change my mood. At least for the moment. And little did I know how wrong I was.

I was receiving death glares from Granger and Weasley when I entered the room, so I expectedly I assumed that Potter had told them something.

"What?" I asked them, raising my brow, expectantly awaiting a reply of 'Harry told me what's going on between you.' When the reply didn't come, I cocked my head to the side, raising my brow higher (if that was possible). They simply snorted and faced each other to start whispering to one another about something.

I was undaunted, deciding that this would not dampen my happy mood. But when Harry entered and sat down beside me (not without my nerves going wrecked) and the two glared at me once again, I was very curious.

"Why'd you tell them, Potter?" I asked softly the boy beside me, pretending to read the book laid in front of me so as not to appear obvious that I was talking to him. Don't get me wrong, I'm not mad at him at the least, but he could've told me before he told them, that way I wouldn't have to embarrass myself.

"Tell them what?" He asked me, looking me directly in the eyes when I looked up.

I looked away and continued reading, pursing my lips together. "Come on, Potter, don't play ignorant. Do tell me. Why did you tell them?" I asked once again, my impatience growing. I'd always known I had a rather short temper and did anything to avoid a mood swing, but then it was my nature.

"Tell them what!?" Potter asked, dropping his book on the table and staring at me with incredulous eyes. His eyebrows were raised and so were his hands. Undoubtedly from exasperation.

"Tell them what?!" I imitated. "Of course, what else! Tell them about us! About how you're my mate! About," I stopped talking when the room fell suddenly silent, and Pansy gave an exaggerated gasp and swooned. What I didn't know was that they were glaring at me because they had been told by Harry that he had to spend the whole day yesterday with me because it was a detention, from Snape. And so they pitied Potter, and they directed furious stares at me for supposedly torturing Potter all day.

"I didn't tell them! But thank you, you just did! You saved me from the trouble of having to do it!" He stated, smiling forcedly.

I wanted to bang my head on the table. Several times. Really.

Everyone was gaping at us, and of course I glared at them to try and get them to stop staring, but apparently we had just become the center of attention for everyone, and so their eyes were pretty glued onto us.

I sighed in relief as the welcome and very familiar sound of Snape banging the door open as he barged into his classroom.

"Why do I sense tension in here?" Was the question he first asked. Sheesh, even from him I can't be safe. Nobody answered, so he started walking around, raising his hand over our heads, making these beeping sounds. Every time he'd pass by me and Potter, he'd beep louder and faster.

"So, Draco. What happened between you just now?" He asked me, his arms folded over his chest.

"I… uh. Was asking Potter why he told Weasley and Granger about the two of us, but apparently he hadn't, but I didn't know that. So I had a temper flare and sort of screamed to the room just what was really going on between the two of us," I rambled on, biting my lip after.

"I see." He stated. "Just as well. Albus was planning on announcing it to the school during dinner." Snape stated and headed back in front of the class to start the lesson for today.

I wish I wasn't so white-skinned. That way they wouldn't be able to detect how I was blushing deep crimson, but then, I can't do anything 'bout it, can I? It was God-given. Or maybe not.

Right after class all hell broke loose. Everyone started whispering amongst themselves before even exiting the classroom, eliciting sharp glares from Snape. Some students would burst into raucous laughter.

I wanted to hide behind my books, but that wouldn't help any, so I just rushed to my next class. Undoubtedly, word would spread and the whole student body would know, even _before_ dinner. I'm beginning to ponder if I could just skip dinner instead.

I endured the rest of the day, but barely. Everyone would throw scathing remarks, both at me _and_ Potter. I seriously wanted to do some rearranging to their faces, but just now it could not be done. I had to keep my temper if I want to keep myself from gaining more humiliation and rude comments. I could tell Potter was holding himself back, too, during lunch. He was the very semblance of a person trying not to implode—clenched fist, clenched jaw, straight face, pursed lips. I could tell he was imploding. He really has to stop trying to keep things to himself sometimes.

"What time is it?" I asked a Slytherin, who simply snorted and answered vaguely. From what I understood of what he said, it was nearly time for dinner. I was dreading it, but there would be no use trying to avoid it, everyone knows already anyway.

I sighed as I made my way to the great hall, walking briskly so as to avoid having to overhear any unwanted conversations. I knew I would trip, but I kept on, taking particular care not to get my robe snagged to something, or my feet strike a loose cobblestone, but I ended up tripping anyway. I sighed, clenching my fist and letting out a tension-releasing growl (somewhat), sitting up to gather my things and my pride and start walking once more. I wanted to leave that area immediately, since everybody was sneering, jeering and laughing.

I entered the great hall as stealthily and inconspicuously as possible, sitting down at the end of the Slytherin table, where everyone would probably not expect to look for me for. Normally I would be at the middle of the table, with girls hanging off both my arms. My plan was working, and so far no one had thrown a remark my way, or glanced my way for the matter. I ate as much as I could, I knew my appetite would disappear later on. I was hoping my luck would hold out, but as Snape said earlier…

Dumbledore rose and cleared his throat to gather the attention of the student body. "From what you have heard earlier and what had spread, be it a rumor, or a gossip, I am merely here to shed some light on the matter and to clear some things up. Mister Draco Malfoy had no choice in his taking of Mister Harry Potter as his mate," This elicited a gasp from some skeptic students, "and even he himself is shocked to find out. Certain arrangements will be made, although things will progress as normal. However, do please refrain from lowering yourself to insulting and/or making fun of the two." At this Dumbledore sat down, his eyes twinkling in the way we all love to hate.

Every head turned either my way, or Potter's.

I want to die.

MOOHAHA! CLIFFIE! Sorta. -- Review, please? Pleaaaaaase? (OMG, I'm on a sugar high.) And oh, I'm lacking inspiration for Blood Magic. Inspire meh!

Word count: 1,493


	7. Violent Reactions, Violent Objections

**Disclaimer:** I suppose by now you understand that I am in no way the owner or creator of these characters, but am merely toying with them.

**A/N: **Oh, God! Thank you to all those who reviewed! I have 101 reviews, already, the most I have ever gotten from writing only 6 chapters of a fic! Thank you to whomever my 100th reviewer was. I have not been paying attention, and I haven't noticed who it was.

Onto the chapter!

**Chapter 7: Violent Reactions, Violent Objections**

Have you any idea the hell I've gone through the week after Dumbledore did finally clear things up and announce truly what my predicament was? And Potter's predicament, also. I've been insulted, jeered at, ignored, annoyed… Not that this hasn't happened before—truly I was already used to this kind of treatment, but to know that it is because of having unconsciously chosen Potter as my mate—I can't describe how desolate I am to have been a half-veela. I was being ignored by most of my friends, here is an example of how I found out they were not real friends.

_"Oy, you pouf, you have better choose. The Gryffindork; or us." Some Slytherin had started. Pansy was standing beside the said Slytherin, and most of them were rallying against me._

But at least I found out who my true friends were…

_"Don't have him choose, you people! He loves Slytherin and the Gryffindor quite equally,"_ _Blaise had defended me, and standing behind me were Crabbe and Goyle—loyal as always._

I was glad to have the three of them as friends, even if I never have been able to strike up any intelligent conversation with Crabbe and Goyle. I would even daresay that Blaise was my best friend.

And even as I would walk the halls, people would raise their eyebrows at me, the girls would sigh desolately from having not been chosen, most everyone would glare at me. I could not walk in peace.

Little did I know that the same thing was occurring with Potter. I would've thought that being spoiled as he is, and famous—he would not be affected too much, not be insulted too much, but I suppose that such was not the case. Heck, even his friends were starting to doubt him, but always Granger and Weasley stood by him.

* * *

On Saturday, I had barely even had the guts to get out of bed. But I was dragged out—by Professor Snape nonetheless, and told that I was expected in the Headmaster's office in roughly ten minutes. I nodded to signify I was aware of what he had just said, and just as he left, I started hobbling about the Slytherin-empty room preparing to go to the Headmaster.

At the Headmaster's office, Potter was already waiting for me, along with the Headmaster. Potter's face was flushed, quite possibly from some comment the Headmaster had stated, and he waved at me, giving me a small smile. I smiled back, waving also. It was quite a wonder—I was pretty sure that I was falling in love with him. The veela part of me wanted to jump him and fuck him into next week, but apparently that would not be a good idea, being as he was probably not expecting it, would fight back. I was rather sure too that he was still trying to get used to the idea of being my mate as he had only found out the week before.

I took a seat opposite Harry and smiled at him, trying not to stare, and turned my attention to the Headmaster. "What is it you have called us here for?" Harry asked politely.

"I wanted to tell you that your private quarters have been prepared, and that you shall be excused from your classes next week. We have decided that it would be best to have the ceremonies happen during said week. To strengthen the bond, and by doing so strengthening both of you. Apparently, the Dark Lord has found out about the new developments, and would not pass up a chance to bring down Harry." Dumbledore had said.

I highly doubt that 'strengthening the bond and both of us' would happen. I mean, Potter doesn't even really like me—yet—but I suppose then that I'm supposed to be doing something about it. I just don't want to force him into doing something like that. As it was Saturday today, I suppose then that we would be leaving for the manor tomorrow.

"I also recommend that both of you keep in the castle at all times—as I have heard through the grapevine, Voldemort is still looking for chances to grab Harry, even right under our noses." The purple-clad wizard added.

Harry was rolling his eyes—if I was thinking logically, he was probably bearing in mind that by sending him to my manor, he would be snatched right out of Dumbledore's nose, and by my own father, no less. Well, I suppose then that I was right.

"You know Voldemort can very well snatch me from under your nose if you send me to the Malfoy's," He stated.

"I trust the Malfoys will not try to hurt you, because by doing so they would be hurting their son," Dumbledore said, and I suppressed a snort of laughter, settling for rolling my eyes instead.

"You will be leaving tomorrow morning, at eight in the morning sharp. You shall floo from your private quarters, which Minerva will lead you two after this meeting." Dumbledore finished with a flourish. He left no more room for complaints or sarcasm-laced comments.

"If that is all, sir, I would very well like then to see Potter's and my private quarters?" I said, folding my arms across my chest to keep my hands from grabbing Harry and hugging the life out of him, just to see if he was really sitting opposite me. Dumbledore nodded and signaled for Professor McGonagall to take us to our rooms.

* * *

She led us through a set of winding corridors, climbing stairs, carefully side-stepping any tricky steps in said moving stairs. If it were not for the fact that I was rather familiar already with the castle, having been living here 6 years, I would've forgotten just how to get to our quarters. I was following her closely, Potter at an arm's length beside me.

"Here we are; I shall have both of you decide the password. Just tell the portrait what you want your password to be, both of you. Your things have been brought here and arranged, no worries. We expect you to floo to the Malfoy Manor from the fire in your private quarter's common room at exactly eight o'clock. You of all people, Mr. Malfoy, should know that your parents do not tolerate unpunctuality. That's all, boys, I shall leave you to explore your chambers." McGonagall said, leaving us alone.

"Well then, shall we uh, decide our password?" Harry said. I could tell he was uncomfortable. I shrugged and looked at the portrait, wherein the background was of a rainforest, at night, and sitting on a rock was a coiled snake, ready to attack, and in front of it was a lion, ready to bite the snake's head off if it tried anything fancy. Funny how the portrait illustrated exactly how Potter's and my relationship stood right now.

"I suppose so. What do you think..?" I replied. I suppose I'd leave the password to him.

"Uh… What about voraciously rabid..? That would compliment the portrait," He suggested. I could really tell he was uncomfortable with being alone with me—his shoulders were tensed, hands in his pockets, an unsure expression painted on his face.

"Hm. Voraciously rabid. I like it," I commented. "Alright then, let's set the password to that and let's get in." I said, and we did just that.

"Whoa." Potter said once we got inside. I was used to luxury, having been living in it since I was born, but I have to say, whoa, too. His eyes were wide as he looked about the common room. Apparently, we were living in a tower—the walls of the common room were round. In the cylindrical room, there was a fireplace—roughly four feet high and three feet wide, atop it another portrait the same width as the fireplace, although this one bore the Malfoy crest and what seemed to be the Potter crest, separated by a wide expanse of black background. In front of the fireplace was an oblong glass coffee table, under it was a green Persian area rug. Behind the coffee table was a circular leather couch, beside it was a leather armchair. Flanking the fireplace, although roughly one meter away from it on both sides, were two floor-to-ceiling windows, and covering them partially were green silken curtains. The vacant parts of the walls were covered with floor to ceiling bookshelves, full of books.

"Hermione would die to have as many books as these," Harry had commented. I shrugged.

The entrance to the common room was flanked by these said bookshelves, and the entrance itself was an archway—with intricate carving and such other expert masonry. The floor was wooden, and the walls of stone.

To the right was a door—leading to our study, the door to the left leading to a spiral staircase. Both Potter and I discovered after further investigation that the stairs led to the bedroom, but I will describe the bedroom later. For now, one thing is on both of our minds.

"Only one bed?!" Potter choked out.

* * *

Cliffie! AGAIN! Muwahahaha! XD Word count: 1613 


	8. One Bed Blues

**Disclaimer:** I wish I had enough money to buy them from J.K. Rowling.

Yay! I finally had enough time to choke out Chapter 8! I'll try to make this longer. Haha. But for now… I really need help with Blood Magic. I might decide to rewrite it, after all… Anyway.

**Author's Note**: Yay! I have a beta reader! Thanks to the ever patient Mave, who waited roughly two weeks from this chapter that I had promised to send a week or so ago.

**Thank you to all those who reviewed!**

**Dreaconin – **I'm not from Britain, and I have no access to British sitcoms. Our cable service doesn't offer BBC, so I suppose then that the readers would have to tolerate somehow the stiffness of the dialogue. I will try to make the dialogue more relaxed and natural. Thanks for the heads-up… And thank you for telling me about 'unpunctual'. I suppose I hadn't noticed. I will correct it once I'm not too lazy anymore.

**Coli – **Thanks! I didn't actually think it would be funny, after all, nearly all my attempts at making something humorous fails.

… **and hanging from the posts were drapes of black rayon. **Rayon, just in case you didn't know, is a sometimes a see-through material.

**Edit: 5:27 PM, Jan. 19, 2005 Thanks for the heads up, people! I've made the correction, and Bellatrix is a _Lestrange_. I guess I forgot. Sorry!**

Onto the chapter!

**Chapter 8: One Bed Blues**

I simply had to agree with Potter. Only one bed meant we'd have to share it… But then I sincerely doubt that Potter would want to. For now then, I suppose onlyone bed meant one of us had to sleep on the couch… or conjure another bed.

All awe and wonder had been wiped out bythe fact that there was only one bed. I forgot all about the common room, the bathroom, the books, the study… All that was on my mind right now was the fact that there was only _one _bed. It was large enough for both of us to fit in it, without ever touching each other, but I had the feeling that Potter would feel that I would be violating his personal space. I sighed as I went over to the bed, sitting down on it.

"I call the bed, Potter," I mentioned, patting the silken sheets beside me for good measure.

My bespectacled life partner, haha, did I actually think that? Anyway, Potter, glared at me. He came over and plopped down on the bed, a good arm's length between us.

"That is no way to treat your mate, Malfoy. And as I recall, I was dragged into this situation. Least you could do is make me feel comfortable," He said, grinning. He knew he had a point and, well, Iknew it too.

With a half-hearted sigh I quirked my brow and pursed my lips. "I'll conjure a bed for myself," I declared. "But don't think I'm going to spoil you just because," I added, looking at him pointedly, "you're my mate."

Potter rolled his eyes and watched me pull my wand out from my pocket and conjure up a bed exactly the same like the one Potter was sitting on at the time. I took off my school robe and threw it on my newly-summoned bed, sitting down on the silk-covered soft feather mattress.

After the initial shock of having only one bed died down, and once the problem was remedied, both Potter and I were able to finally glance about our surroundings. To put it straight, it was homey, luxurious, and at the same time beautiful. The floor was wooden, each plank running from wall to wall, to wall. The walls were still of stone. The bedroom was different from the common room—it was rectangular, instead of circular. The bed—now beds, were at an arm's length apart, beside each other. Between them was an end table, and to the left of Potter's bed was another end table. There was no end table at the other side of my bed—I had no need to conjure one. The beds themselves were beautiful, works of expert craftsmanship. The wood was dark as the floor, and the sheets were of black silk. The beds were four-poster, and hanging from the posts were drapes of black rayon. Directly in front of Potter's bed—which was actually supposed to be _our _bed, was a vanity table again the same shade of dark brown wood, with a mirror spanning 3 ft in height by 5 ft in width. Underneath the vanity table sat a wooden stool. Running from wall to wall, underneath our beds, was a Persian area rug, colorful and lively. Hanging on the walls directly above our beds were paintings, from some Italian painter. To the right wall were two evenly spaced floor-to-ceiling windows, draped with the same white black as the beds, albeit they were of velvet. To the far right, on the same wall, were the double-doors, which led to the stairs leading down. Directly in front of the double-doors, on the other wall, was a door leading to what I imagined was the walk-in wardrobe. Also, on the left wall was embedded a fireplace, 3 ft in height by 5 ft in width. In the corner, to the right of the vanity table, sat two leather armchairs, one facing the bed, and the other facing the double doors. In front of them lay a small table, and in between them, eased into the corner, was another end table. We would never lack surfaces for our things.

I was in awe. So was Potter. He was still looking around, ashe had not finished admiring what would be our quarters for the rest of our stay at Hogwarts. I was done with my initial inspection; I had no longer any reason to keep looking about. I had been expecting something as luxurious. I expected nothing less, and whomever prepared the chambers for us knew it.

I kept my hands on my lap, fingers intertwined. I avoided looking at Potter, although I noticed that he was staring at my reflection on the mirror. His gaze came to rest upon my face on the mirror, and I finally noticed that he was staring at my eyes through my reflection. I fought the heat rushing to my cheeks.

"What is it, Potter?" I asked, quirking my brow. He turned his head to look at me, as I did to look at him.

"I just can't believe all this is happening," He stated, and I chortled.

"Well, it'shappening, so you better believe it. Neither of us has any way to get out of this," I mentioned, smirking and rolling my eyes. It was still early on in the afternoon, and the room was illuminated by the glow seeping through the windows. Potter shrugged his reply and continued to watch me. I twiddled my thumbs so as to distract myself from his emerald orbs.

"So what are we going to do now? We don'thave any schoolwork left to do, and I sincerely doubt that my 'friends' would want me intruding in on their gossiping in the common room," He said, pursing his lips as he tried to think of something to do.

I myself had no idea what to do, so I stood up and stretched. "We could read a few books in our common room," I suggested with a small shrug. I knew very wellthat this was a pathetic suggestion but oh well. He seemed to be considering it and he nodded his head as he stood up and then both of us headed over to our common room, glancing at the titles on the shelves.

"Where did you get this information, Lestrange? Are you sure this is accurate?" The Dark Lord asked as he glanced outside the window.

* * *

"Milord, I heard from a few students in Hogsmeade. Heard it with my own ears," Bellatrix Lestrange answered politely, from her genuflect-kneeling position on the floor. Her head was bowed, a sign of complete and total respect and devotedness.

"Very well. I suppose then that we would have to make some arrangements with the Malfoys, do we not?" The Dark Lord answered, or rather asked rhetorically, and started laughing evilly. Bellatrix joined him in the laughing.

* * *

"What are you reading, Potter?" I asked, watching him flip the pages as he slouched on the circular couch in our common room. I had opted for the leather armchair. We had lighted the fire since it was slightlycold, and to somewhat alter the ambiance and atmosphere of the room, to make it more comfortable.

"Hmn? I'm reading a book about veelas. I'm trying to see if there's an undiscovered way, a loophole, to get out of this." He answered honestly, raising the book on his lap to show me the title. 'Veelas and How to Deal with Them' was the title. I snickered. He really was stubborn, just like they allsaid.

"Potter. There isn't any loophole, nothing." I said, not bothering to look up from the book resting on my lap. Potter sighed and closed his book, placing it on the coffee table.

"What are you reading, then?" He asked, in an attempt to be civil, I assumed. Or maybe he was just really bored. I raised the book up for him to see, and he nodded in acknowledgement. I was reading a book about mystical creatures. It was what I was able to grab from the shelf.

"Want to play a game of chess?" He offered, standing up and returning the book to its original place. I closed my book and returned it to the shelf. I had nothing better to do, so I said yes.

"Hah! I beat you! _Again_!" Potter yelled, his arms shooting up in the air to celebrate.

"Yes, yes, you beat me. I don't care," I said, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. But soon enough a smile broke out, and I was grinning madly. "Congratulations for the nth time," I said, laughing.

It was already dark, and from my wristwatch, I saw that it was already past nine. We had completely forgotten about dinner. This wouldn't be good; all those rumormongers would once more run amok muttering about how we didn't come out for dinner.

I yawned and stood up. "Enough with chess, Potter, I'm tired, not to mention sleepy. _And _we have to leave for the manor early tomorrow. You can stay up, but I'm going to bed," I said, heading upstairs to our roomI took a pair of silken pajamas and headed for the bathroom to change and get ready for bed.

Yay! I'm done for this chapter! I know I ought to make it longer, but I have 3 quizzes to study for, so sorry. Word count: 1,772 words.


	9. Is This Him?

**Disclaimer: **You know this by now.

**Author's Note: **Thank you so much to those who reviewed! I adore all of you!

I'm planning on making a website thing. I'll tell you the details later.

I'm also planning on writing a new fic, a non-slash one (for the first time). I would need more support, although I would never say that all the support that Mave, my betareader, gave me isn't enough. But still, I need more. Help meeeh! I'll post the details on my profile later. I'm planning on making a blog/lj for this fic. I do hope it'll be nice…

I took a slightly long time writing this, writer's block and all. And I'm worried because I would have to describe Malfoy Manor. I'm afraid I'm running out of creativity. Oo; Anyway, I do hope this turns out well, if not perfect.

THANK YOU, MAVE! YOU'RE THE BEST!

Onto the next chapter!

**Chapter 9: Is this him?**

_I blinked. Once. Twice._

OH, HOLY FUCKING SHIT! I absolutely forgot about today! We were supposed to leave for the manor at _eight_ in the morning! It's half past seven, I've only just awoken, and Potter is still snoring beside me!

_**Beside me!**_

Bloody hell, Potter is _beside_ me! As in an inch away from me, beside me. I sat up, and checked if this was my bed, or his. Maybe it was me who slipped into his bed last night, because him sleeping beside me is impossible. Yes, it was _my _bed.My heart was jumping in my chest happily. He slept beside me! I stopped myself from laughing before I woke him up. Oh, wait, I did need to wake him up.

Why am I feeling _so_ giddy? Gah.

Maybe because I'm thrilled he slept beside me, that he was at least willing to share a bed with me. There was no need then for my summoning another bed.

Or maybe he just made a mistake and slipped into my bed unknowingly, noticed that it was mine far too late, and he was just too lazy to move to his bed?

What if he woke up and started screaming bloody murder?

Why am I thinking like this? It's seven thirty-seven, for Merlin's sake, _and_ we're still in bed!

Oh dear Merlin, I want to kiss him.

"Harry, wake up," I managed, and gently shook him awake.

He blinked owlishly and sat up, his hair even messier than usual, one side standing up, one flat on his head. That made him look so cute, although I would rather cut my tongue off than admit it. He yawned and stretched his arms.

"G'morning. Time s'it?" He asked, still sleepy, rubbing at his eyes. "I just had a very goo' rest,and tha's v'ry rare," He mumbled as he yawned, having some trouble forming syllables. He was still too lazy, not yet wanting to get out of bed, and not to mention he was still sleepy.

Although the fact that he rested well even if he was beside me was very heart-warming.

"Good morning. We've no more time for chatting right now. How can you be so relaxed! There are only twenty minutes left before eight o'clock, and if you would remember, we have to leave for the-"

"Oh gods! It's nearly eight o'clock? Why didn't you wake me up?" He exclaimed, nearly jumping off the bed, and I looked down guiltily.

"I just woke up myself, too." I explained with a shrug, and folded my arms at my chest. We were so close that if I leaned a few inches forward, I would be able to kiss him. It was far too early, but I would take my chances… I just wanted to kiss him so much.

I leaned forward and gave him a small smile before my lips ghosted on his, touching his lightly. He was in shock, I knew, and I pulled away and got out of bed before he would be able to chop my head off. I smiled at him and headed for our bathroom so that I could take a quick shower.

* * *

I took one of the quickest showers I had ever had, and dressed up formally. Certainlymy parents would be upset ifI wore casual clothing in their presence. I walked to our room, clad in black dress pants, a white shirt, and a dark green cuffed dress robe. As I passed by Potter, who gave me a small smile, I advised that it would be best if he dressed up formally too to meet my parents. "And make it quick," I had added. Potter simply shrugged and headed to the shower, his bath towel slung over his shoulder.

I sat on the already made bed—the house elves, I assumed, had already been in to clean—and sighed, standing up and pacing. I knew how unreasonable my parents could get if I was late. Likely even moreso if Potter and I were late… especiallysince I would be introducing him to them formally.

Five minutes passed, and I was already pacing, pondering if what I had done earlier was acceptable.

Was kissing Potter reasonable?

What was I thinking!

He could very well hate me now.

Two more minutes, and I was near panicking. Three more minutes and it would be eight o'clock, and we would be late! To my intense relief, however, Potter clambered up the steps, his hair still wet from his bath—and still sticking up—wearing an emerald green robe which brought out the color of his eyes. I smiled at him, and we headed over to the fireplace. I handed him the dust-less, soot-free floo powder, which promised to get us to wherever we wanted, still squeaky clean. "To Malfoy Manor," I informed him, and smiled. I soon followed.

* * *

We arrived in our floo room, finally, and I dusted myself, even if I was clean as ever. I simply couldn't stand being dirty, I suppose. Potter, I noticed, was doing the same. He happened to look up, however, and stopped in his tracks, gaping. "Uh. Nice..?" He offered.

I chuckled and nudged him forward. I could imagine his shock and wonder; I did feel like that when I was a kid. Even if I _did _live in this manor, I was never allowed to floo much as a child. My mother feared I would get dirty. The invention of the soot-less floo powder guaranteed though that I would be able to travel as much as I liked. Through secure floo networks, of course.

The room was enormous, quite possible the size of two-thirds of the great hall, and in the middle was a fountain, round and continually pumping water. In the corners were four columns, so big that my arms would wrap around them only half way. The intricate carvings on the columns never ceased to amaze even me. The fireplace from which we came from was on one wall, big enough that the whole Weasley clan would fit in it, and on the wall opposite it were the double doors leading to the hallway, two times my height, made of wood. The room was made of marble, and the lighting came from the windows around the dome ceiling, and the chandelier hanging in the middle, atop the fountain. Surrounding the fountain were black leather couches, which perfectly contrasted the off-white of the marble.

I led Harry into the hall, around the manor, through some winding hallways, up some stairs, and stopped finally in front of the double doors that led to the parlor.

"We'll meet my mum and dad here. Just remember to be polite, keep your back straight, and don't talk to them unless they talk to you. They're sticklers for manners, and you know that."I said, smiling. He smiled back nervously, nodding.

"Malfoy? Are you sure meeting your parents is safe..?" Harry asked.

I grinned, rolling my eyes. I didn't bother to reply. He was still suspicious of my father, but that was alright by me. I knocked thrice before we went in. I nodded to my father curtly, and gave my mother a hug.

"Father, mother." I greeted, and went back to Potter's side, and pulled him by the arm gently to stand in front of my parents. "This is my mate, Harry James Potter." I stated.

"Pleasure meeting you once more, Potter." Father had said rather stiffly, and offered his hand for Harry to shake. Harry did so and said the same thing my father did. My mother then came forward to inspect him. She walked around him, as if a predator, quirking her brow as she inspected. With a final nod of approval, she gave Harry an almost undetectable smile and gave him a hug.

"Welcome to the family, Harry." She smiled, and broke the hug. "I do hope you will enjoy your stay here. I know that you will find having my son as a mate wonderful," she said. I smiled and Harry did so too. I could tell that he was thinking that it would have been easier to get along with the Malfoys if we were both as nice as my mother.

* * *

End chapter! Rather shorter than what I was planning to write, but I'm just sooo tired!

Word count: 1,568


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